


Calm

by lachatblanche



Series: Dollhouse AU [31]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Consent Issues, M/M, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:26:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/pseuds/lachatblanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a lull in the Dollhouse on the day before Shaw's visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calm

‘Don’t look now, doctor,’ giggled one of the nurses, coming up behind him and whispering in his ear, ‘But I think you have an admirer.’

The doctor, intrigued, followed the nurse’s line of sight and turned to glance at the admirer in question. Drained as he was from spending most of the previous night in the operating theatre, it took him a moment to register that the person he was looking at was a man. A very _male_ man, if the sideburns indicated anything, and his gaze was definitely focused on the doctor. 

Frowning slightly, the doctor quickly turned away before the man staring at him could notice that he was staring back. 

‘Sorry to disappoint you, Rosie,’ he said, turning to the nurse with a wry smile, ‘But I seriously doubt that he’s an admirer of mine.’

The nurse’s eyebrows rose.

‘Oh, do you know him?’ she asked, looking interested.

The doctor shook his head.

‘No,’ he said, but then he frowned. ‘I don’t think so, at least.’ He paused, feeling slightly perplexed. ‘He _does_ look vaguely familiar, though …’ He shook his head. ‘Perhaps – perhaps I met him once, somewhere …’

‘Why don’t you go over and say hello?’ the nurse said encouragingly. ‘You’re all finished here, anyway.’

The doctor bit his lip, hesitating. He then glanced over at the man again before nodding.

‘Yes, all right,’ he said, smiling at the nurse. ‘I suppose he _does_ look very familiar …’

‘Good,’ the nurse smiled. She held out her hand for him to shake. ‘This is where we part ways, then. It was a real pleasure working with you, doctor,’ she added, sounding quite genuine. ‘I’m very glad that they brought you in. Your work in the theatre last night was incredible – I’ve honestly never seen anything like it.’ She gave him a wink, slowly retreating as she did. ‘Think about us, if you ever feel like leaving St. Benedict’s.’

The doctor smiled at that. ‘I will.’

He watched her until she turned down one of the corridors before smiling and turning around. The smile quickly slid off his face, however, when he saw that the man with the sideburns was still watching him, his gaze steady and unflinching. 

Something about the man irked him, the doctor admitted. He couldn’t recall having ever met the man before in his entire life and yet there was something so damn _familiar_ about him all the same …

Making up his mind, the doctor steeled himself and strode forward.

‘Hello,’ he said, coming to a stop directly in front of the man, a forced smile firmly in place. ‘Can I help you in some way?’

The man – who didn’t seem to be at all surprised by his approach, the doctor noted – didn’t answer immediately. He watched the doctor for a moment, before nodding. 

‘Yeah,’ he said finally, slowly straightening up. ‘Yeah, you can. It’s time for your treatm-’ the man paused suddenly, his sentence coming to an abrupt stop. A flicker of indecision crossed his face. He swallowed, then, looking almost pained, and the doctor nearly started forward in concern at the man’s odd expression. Finally, with an obvious effort, the man tightened his jaw and looked up, his expression resolute. His voice was low and gruff when he spoke and he did not meet the doctor’s eyes.

‘Do you – do you maybe wanna get coffee someplace?’ His jaw snapped shut after the words had been spoken and he stared determinedly at the floor, his whole body tense.

There was silence. The doctor opened his mouth but then quickly shut it again, not knowing what to say. It appeared that Rosie had been right, he thought dumbly – the man _did_ seem to be something of an admirer. Part of him wanted to laugh at that and the other part of him wanted to cringe with embarrassment. He stared at the man, wide-eyed, wondering what he ought to do. As he looked at the man, however, something inside of him began to soften. He then suddenly realised with a jolt of surprise that he didn’t actually find the idea of having coffee with this man as objectionable as he had expected. It wasn’t as if he looked very threatening, after all. And the man had a kind face, the doctor decided. Gruff, certainly, but kind nonetheless. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more the man seemed to be really quite … _trustworthy_. 

‘Sure,’ he found himself saying. ‘Sure, that sounds fine. I think I’d like that. The canteen’s just around the corner, if you like?’ The question came out surprisingly tentative.

The stranger stared at him for a moment, looking almost startled by the acquiescence, before he schooled his expression and nodded slowly.

‘Yeah,’ he muttered, sounding resigned. ‘Yeah. That sounds okay.’

The doctor gave him a hesitant smile and gestured for the man to follow him. He was surprised to find that he wasn’t at all worried. Sure, he wasn’t entirely certain what the hell he was doing, agreeing to have coffee with a complete stranger, but for some reason he was pretty sure that it would all turn out fine.

This man, he felt, could be trusted. 

He had never been more certain of anything in his life.

*****

Logan wondered, for perhaps the thousandth time in the last ten minutes, what the heck he thought he was doing, because there was no way in hell that this would not come back to bite him in the ass.

He was sitting in the hospital cafeteria. With Charles. Drinking coffee. Again, with Charles.

He was having _coffee_ with _Charles_.

His chest constricted at the thought and he scowled, feeling more than a little annoyed with himself. Here he was, jeopardising his entire future for a goddamn coffee date and yet he still couldn’t stop himself from acting like a lovestruck teenage _girl_. He frowned at the thought and stared moodily down at the table, while Charles chattered on, oblivious to his turmoil. Logan didn’t have a clue what he was talking about – most of what Charles was saying was flying _way_ over his head – but he didn’t have the heart to stop him. Not when he looked so happy. Not when this might potentially be the –

‘Are you even listening to me?’

Logan came out of his reverie to see Charles watching him with a raised eyebrow. He opened his mouth to grunt out an affirmative but, instead, found himself saying, ‘I shouldn’t be doing this.’

There was a pause. Then Charles cocked his head to the side and frowned at him.

‘Shouldn’t be doing what?’ he asked, puzzled.

Logan considered lying for a moment before realising the futility of it – Charles was only going to go and forget it all again anyway – and he sighed, shrugging dully.

‘This,’ he grunted out, jerking his chin towards Charles and giving him a wry look. ‘It’s against regulations, see? For good reason, too, probably. Can’t say they’d be too pleased to know that I was doing this.’ He shook his head and let out a humourless snort. ‘Heck, Frost would have my head if she knew that I was taking you out for _coffee_ instead of bringing you straight back home. Probably get some big ol’ speech about _fraternising with the Actives_ or some shit like that.’ He snorted again, smiling bitterly.

Charles, meanwhile, had gone very still.

‘Frost?’ he repeated in a small voice, sounding slightly agitated. A wrinkle was forming on his forehead and his fingers were tightening imperceptibly on his coffee cup. ‘Actives?’ He shook his head, stammering slightly. ‘I - I’m afraid that I really don’t understand. I – What are you saying?’

Logan blinked. He glanced over at Charles and, upon seeing his agitated expression, bit back a curse.

‘Shit,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Sorry. It’s okay, Chuck,’ he said quickly, meeting Charles’s eyes and reaching out to brush his hand. ‘You’re okay. You’re safe. Everything’s all right. You can trust me.’

Charles blinked once, his eyes still foggy and confused, and then, in the next second, his expression cleared. 

‘With my life,’ he responded, and smiled.

Logan had to look away.

‘You were saying?’ Charles continued, back in character again, his momentary agitation all but forgotten.

‘Right,’ Logan reluctantly pulled his hand back from where it had been resting on Charles’s. ‘Yeah. I just meant – I’m not supposed to be doing this. Sitting here with you, I mean.’ He sighed and rubbed his neck tiredly. ‘But I guess if this is gonna be it …’ he let out a dry chuckle. ‘I mean, Frost can’t really _fire_ me after this, can she?’

Charles just stared at him with a bemused expression and shrugged, smiling helplessly. 

Which, Logan supposed, was a perfectly acceptable reaction, considering. ‘Yeah,’ he huffed, nodding at Charles’s mystified expression. ‘I thought as much.’ He then straightened up and met Charles’s eyes, looking suddenly serious. ‘See, the thing is … if it all goes according to plan, then this – this will be the last time we will ever work together.’ He swallowed. ‘I know that this doesn’t really mean anything to you right now, but maybe when you’re – well, when you’re _you_ again, you’ll …’ He shook his head. ‘Never mind,’ he said, a self-deprecating smile on his face. ‘It’s not important anyway. Just – hopefully you get to go home tomorrow, that’s all.’

For some reason, Charles – who by this time probably thought that he was some kind of crazy-ass idiot, Logan reflected gloomily – seemed to find this last statement amusing. 

‘That’s very good of you,’ he said, giving Logan a cheery smile, ‘But I’m actually off duty as of ten minutes ago. In fact,’ he glanced down at his wrist and made a small noise when he saw the time, ‘I really ought to leave now if I want to make it back home in time for dinner.’ He made an apologetic face. ‘I’m so sorry to cut this short.’ He smiled at Logan. ‘This was actually pretty nice. Talking to you, I mean. One of the things about working in a hospital,’ he said confidingly as he got to his feet, ‘You tend to forget the pleasures of simple human conversation.’ He turned to face Logan then and bit his lip. ‘Um,’ he said slightly uncomfortably, ‘I’m back in town again next week as well. If you wanted to get together for drinks or something again?’ The offer was awkwardly-put but there was no doubting the genuine warmth behind the invitation.

And yet Logan hesitated. His mouth tasted bitter. He wanted to say yes. There was no reason not to – Christ, Charles wouldn’t even _remember_ this conversation in an hour’s time – but for some reason – some damned stupid fucking reason – Logan’s mouth was sticking on the word ‘yes’. Maybe it was the awkward expression on Charles’s face; maybe it was because he’d always had trouble lying to his Active; maybe it was because tomorrow was _the day_ … 

‘Tell you what,’ he said gruffly, finally meeting Charles’s eyes, ‘Let’s wait until tomorrow, okay bub? And then – you can see whether you feel like having that drink with me then, okay?’

Charles looked perplexed at the noncommittal answer but he took it in his stride and shrugged.

‘Suit yourself,’ he said, smiling cheerily. He then turned and nodded towards the door. ‘That’s me. Going my way?’

Logan’s mouth turned up at the corner.

‘Yeah,’ he said, taking a deep breath and slowly getting to his feet. ‘Yeah I am.’ He moved around the table and came to stand by Charles’s shoulder. ‘Oh and by the way?’

Charles glanced up at him with a smile of polite interest. ‘Yes?’ he asked.

Logan looked him straight in the eye.

‘It’s time for your treatment,’ he said.

And Charles immediately looked up, smiled, and – just as he had done hundreds of times before – turned and followed Logan out of the room; unquestioning, obedient, and docile as a lamb.

*****

Emma Frost stood at the balcony overlooking the heart of the Dollhouse, her face expressionless as she looked out over her realm. Outwardly she looked unmoving; calm and cold and still as a glass statue.

Inside, however, her heart was beating with pride and a feeling of deep contentment was settling within her bones. This, she thought with satisfaction. This was hers. She had built this. Not literally, perhaps, and not alone, but still; it was hers. The Dollhouse belonged to her and she belonged to the Dollhouse.

Her eyes roved almost lovingly over the inhabitants of the House, finally coming to rest on the two figures who were just now walking down from the Programming Room, one with his hand on the other’s back, guiding him. Her eyes then flicked down to the delicate silver filigree watch clasped around her wrist, and she let out a low hum of consideration. Her eyes wandered back to the two figures and a small, crooked smile appeared on her lips.

‘Dear Mr. Howlett,’ she murmured under her breath, idly tracing her fingers up and down the balcony railing. ‘Whatever have you been doing for the last hour?’

She watched with interest as Logan led his Active to a chair and seated him there before sitting down carefully beside him. She couldn’t help but smile at that. Loath as she was to admit it, she found the two of them rather sweet. Slightly pathetic, true, but sweet nonetheless. She’d always had something of a soft spot for Logan, she could admit to herself, and Charles – well. Charles was another matter altogether. She frowned slightly and averted her gaze. Thinking about Charles only led her to one place:

Shaw. 

Shaw, who was expected to arrive at the Dollhouse the very next evening.

As if on cue, Mr. Creed appeared at her shoulder, as silent as a ghost.

‘All the preparations have been made for Mr. Shaw’s visit tomorrow, Miss Frost,’ he murmured with an obsequious nod of the head.

Emma tilted her own in acknowledgement.

‘Very good,’ she replied, still facing away from Creed and looking out over the balcony. ‘I trust you have followed my instructions to the letter?’

‘Every word, ma’am,’ Creed answered deferentially. He hesitated then, looking vaguely uncomfortable. Emma, catching the movement out of the corner of her eye, turned to him with a raised eyebrow, forcing him to speak. ‘It’s just that – some of the arrangements, ma’am – I do not fully understand-’

‘Are you questioning me, Mr. Creed?’ Emma interrupted him, her voice silky. 

Creed froze. He opened his mouth and then shut it and then quickly shook his head. 

Emma hid a smirk. She allowed him to stew for a few moments before magnanimously relenting.

‘I assure you, Mr. Creed,’ she said smoothly, turning back to look down at the rest of the House, ‘that you have no need to worry. I never do anything without good reason. Mr. Shaw’s visit is not common knowledge, you see. And I would quite like to keep it that way. Do you understand?’

Creed hesitated again before nodding quickly.

‘Good,’ Emma said crisply. ‘Mr. Shaw values his privacy, Mr. Creed. And, as I am sure you know, discretion is the cornerstone of the Dollhouse.’

‘Yes, Miss Frost,’ Creed murmured, his head bowed. He hovered at her elbow for a moment before she jerked her head in dismissal. Creed gave her a quick, respectful nod in return before quickly moving away, soundless as always.

Emma watched him leave, a thoughtful expression on her face. Creed was a valued aide, she mused. So loyal and eager to help. 

It was … pleasing.

She nodded to herself, her thoughts once more in order. Then, ever so slowly, she turned back towards the balcony and began, once again, to watch over her flock.

Her lambs, after all, were in need of tending.


End file.
